Prophecy
The glittering darkness of the perfect night
An hour before the break of perfect morn,
When from her slowly-lessening, beauteous horn
The brilliant moon pours forth a splendid light:
So glows the radiance of inspired sight,
Steadfast, serene, by weariness unworn
And clear of every human doubt forlorn,
Keeping Faith's vigil on imperial height —
While sleeps the world below, unconscious, prone,
Drunken with things of self and slothful time —
Until Fulfilment's flood, like morning's prime,
Through wondrous gates of Promise widely thrown
Rolls in majestical from zone to zone
And merges Prophecy in Light sublime.
An hour before the break of perfect morn,
When from her slowly-lessening, beauteous horn
The brilliant moon pours forth a splendid light:
So glows the radiance of inspired sight,
Steadfast, serene, by weariness unworn
And clear of every human doubt forlorn,
Keeping Faith's vigil on imperial height —
While sleeps the world below, unconscious, prone,
Drunken with things of self and slothful time —
Until Fulfilment's flood, like morning's prime,
Through wondrous gates of Promise widely thrown
Rolls in majestical from zone to zone
And merges Prophecy in Light sublime.
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